


Meet Your Match

by islasands



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Yin-Yang fuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:55:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islasands/pseuds/islasands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam meets his match....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Your Match

They say no two snowflakes are the same. Each has a pattern that has never been and will never be repeated. If you find this hard to believe then imagine how Adam felt the night – but wait, I’m jumping ahead of myself.

Adam came home from the recording session feeling only half-satisfied with its outcome. He was so preoccupied by recent events involving the loss of a lover that he could do no more than sing himself into the same soulful corner, repeating phrases that were depressingly contrived. His co-writer had run with it for a while but two hours into the session she gave up and began to fool around. But Adam couldn’t shake his dullness of spirit.

“Love’s a bitch,” she said, finally. His head was in her lap, his hands curled up against his chest. He rolled over and looked up at her friendly, crinkly smile.

“No, apparently I’m the bitch. A controlling asshole. That’s what he says.”

She pushed the shock of his hair back from his forehead.

“Is it true?” she asked. Their gazes locked.

“Don’t stop,” he said, by way of answering her question. “Keep doing that. I like it.”

And she didn’t stop, but kept on running her hands through his hair, rhythmically pushing it back while she regaled him with a lost love story of her own. Suddenly she noticed his breathing had changed. Surely he wasn’t snoring! She laughed and pushed him off her lap.

“You’re a baby,” she said. “Stop going out with babies. They’re too competitive. Find a fucking man you can’t manipulate.”

Adam stayed on the floor. He spread out his limbs, star fashion, and pouted at the ceiling.

“I need another one of me, then,” he sighed. “A cold, calculating shitter who won’t take no for an answer.”

When he pulled up at his house he paused on the driveway to take in the moonlight. He loved a moonlit night, loved it when the world was bathed in the lightest form of darkness. It was a hushing light. Shadows were blacker, sounds were crisp. He looked up and let the diamond hard moonlight drill into his chest. The scent of the garden was heady on account of earlier rains. A bird piped a few notes as it flew out of a nearby tree. Poor bastard was probably kicked out for not wanting to change sides on the damn branch, he thought. “Still singing, though. Eat my fucking song, bitch!” He smirked at the moon and went inside.

Once inside the house he decided not to turn on any lights. He wanted no artificial light to marr his enjoyment of the moon’s ghostly atmosphere. He showered in the dark, holding his hands to form a cup against his chest so that the water filled and overflowed noisily. He closed his eyes and pushed his upturned face into the shower’s rain. He wondered if he could cry and forced out a few choking noises. The house was empty. His bed was empty. His lover was gone. He remembered the last time they had shared this shower, how they had wriggled into and around each other like coiling snakes. He remembered how carefully he had dried him off afterwards, raising his arms as though he was a child so that he could pat his underarms dry. “I was so good to him,” he thought sadly, screwing up his eyes at the memory of how good and kind and attentive he had been. But the tears wouldn’t come. “Well, screw you,” he thought, “screw you and your need for space. Take all the space you need. You only have the brains to require a back yard of it.. I’ve got a whole fucking Sahara of space. I need a caravan of camels just to get from one thought to the fucking next.”

Invigorated by the thought of his inhospitable nature, he looked down at his cock. “You share my mind,” he said and gripped it angrily.

His sleep, when it came, was deep and dreamless. He had always had the happy knack of being able to fall asleep despite the exigencies of any crisis, his own or other people’s. It was not one of his more likeable qualities. This propensity for making an easy escape had in fact been the last straw for his lover. They had been arguing about whether or not Adam should attend some boring red carpet event alone or not. “I don’t want you to come,” Adam had said. “I don’t want you there. I want you here. Do you know what it means to me to know there is some secret fucking normality to my life that no-one out there gets to touch? Plus I’ll worry about you.” He was checking his appearance in a full length mirror. He looked back at his boyfriend’s reflection. “This okay?” he asked.

He got home late and drunk. He turned on some music and sprawled on the couch.

“Are you coming to bed,” a voice said. “I’ve got your normality all nice and showered and ready for you. Sheets are changed. Rose fucking petals everywhere.”

Without opening his eyes Adam smiled and reached out a drunken arm. He muttered something incoherent. He drew the boy against him. “Adam,” a voice said. “Adam!”

But Adam was already snoring. His arm flopped down beside him when his lover pulled away. He didn’t hear the announcement “I’m leaving,” He didn’t hear the door slam. It took a whole day of hung-over texting the following day to find out what had happened. It hit him hard yet here he was, a week later,sleeping through his sufferings again. He rolled over and sighed comfortably as though he was thinking that very thought.

He was woken by a loud crash somewhere in the house. His first response was to be expected. His heart pounded. He gingerly sat up, afraid to betray his presence. He heard a tap running. And then someone swore. Adam’s fear was instantly replaced by a rush of anger. He almost ran down the hall to the kitchen door. He threw it open and at the same time turned on the light. A man was standing at the sink, drinking the water he had just poured. It was not the man Adam thought it would be. Before he could speak the man turned to him and grinned. Adam backed out of the doorway and hit his back hard on the hallway wall. He shook his head and blinked hard. It could not be true. It just couldn’t.

But it was true. The man wiped his lips and began walking – drunkenly – towards him. “Honey, I’m home,” he said, holding out his arms. “And I am drunk,” he said as he reached Adam and leered into his face. “But not so drunk I don’t know what to do with you,” He lunged his face at Adam’s but when Adam turned his cheek away, simultaneously finding the strength to raise his arms and try to push the man away, the man just laughed and pressed his body full length against Adam, easily pinning him to the wall. “You’re my bitch, and don’t you forget it,” he laughed in Adam’s face. “Pucker up, angel. I grew this fucker for you!” He laughed again and ran his beard over Adam’s lips.

Adam closed his mouth firmly but made no other protest. The man was still pressed against him and was unbuckling his pants. He let them drop to the ground and then slipped his hand around Adam’s cock which to Adam’s dismay instantly began to swell. “Hah,” the man crowed, as he tightened his fist, “You share my mind,”

“Open your fucking mouth,” the man said. And Adam did. He could hardly refuse. This was no ordinary man. This was no stranger. This was himself, his perfect twin. He couldn’t ask “Who are you?’ He couldn’t run or argue. This man wasn’t even his fucking double – it was really him, his real self, forcing his tongue down his throat, wanking him hard, clutching a handful of his hair so that his throat was exposed. And the hand circling his throat, squeezing it lightly, was his own. His clone’s own.

Adam closed his eyes wanting the release to come. “No, no, no, no,” the man said, abruptly releasing Adam’s cock and stepping away. “Tonight you’re gonna be my little wolf girl. My little desert wolf. You better run,” he waved his hand. “I’m gonna fuck you inside out.”

Part 2

Adam ran. His panic was so convoluted in attributeable causes he couldn’t think straight. He was running to escape the horror of being his own assailant, running from a mystery he didn’t care to unravel, and worst of all – he was running to be caught. He stumbled down the hall, through the back guest room, out of a sliding door into the garden and then across the lawn and into a grove of trees that demarcated the boundary to his property. Above and beyond that boundary there was a hillside of trees leading up to another house. The block wall was far too high for him to climb. He heard the sliding door opening. Through the trees he could see the man who was now as naked as he was. He was walking towards him slowly and unsteadily, a drink in one hand and the other reaching out as though looking for support from an imaginary wall. He came to the middle of the lawn and stood still, looking up.

“Look at that fucker,” he heard the man say. He looked over in Adam’s direction. “Come out, come out, where-ever you are,” he crooned. He finished off his drink, threw the glass away, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He resumed walking towards Adam.

“This is so typical of you,” he said, waving his arm. “Backed into a corner, up against a wall, so fucking useless at being desperate. Why didn’t you run down the street? Or try to get to your car? Or failing those, why didn’t you just - fall asleep? On the spot?” He burst out laughing. By now he was close enough for Adam to see his eyes – his own eyes - glinting at him. He looked like an animal. His eyes were oddly slanted like an animal’s eyes. His hair stood straight up, blacker than black with its frosting of moonlight. His teeth flashed when he spoke.

The man took another few steps and drew aside a branch. “Awww. Look at you,” he said. “All tarted up in your ‘realness’ and nowhere to go.” He pushed aside the last of the branches and came right up to Adam who did indeed have his back to a wall. The man placed his hands on his shoulders. “Why do you keep calling me ‘the man’?” he asked, bending forward to brush his lips against Adam’s. It wasn’t a kiss so much as it was a slow to and fro sweeping of his lips against Adam’s parted ones. The gentle dryness of the touch was unbearable. “I don’t know you,” Adam whispered into the man’s mouth. His mouth was filling with saliva. His senses were so heightened he could feel the gap between their erections, their chests, their faces as a palpable struggle of magnetism. For and against. Repulsion, attraction.

“That’s right” the man said. He moved forward enough for their erections to nudge. “All this platitudinal bullshit about loving yourself. When truth is ‘You don’t know me’!” The man mimicked Adam’s whisper perfectly. He suddenly licked right across Adam’s mouth. “You self-obsessed little moron!” he said. “You don’t mind looking in a mirror so long as it doesn’t fucking look back.” He grabbed Adam’s arm and pulled him against him, moving backwards as he did so that they came out of the bushes onto the lawn. The feeling of exposure flooded Adam from top to toe. He felt trapped in the flash of a camera that would not, or could not, close its shutters. The man forced him onto his knees and then knelt himself, forcing Adam to lie on the ground, his legs spread-eagled, his arms above his head. The man knelt between Adam’s legs. He idly flicked at Adam’s erection.

“I want you to sing while I fuck you,” the man said. “Which of our songs shall we sing? What would most suit this, well, what would you call this, Adam? A sublime fuckery of self-love?” The man dragged his fingernails up the inside of Adam’s legs. Adam raised up on his elbows and stared, open-mouthed, at the man. He wanted whatever it was to stop but the more he wanted to speak the less he had something to say, the more he wanted to push the man away the more his body was inflamed with the wish to surrender. His cock was so engorged it actually hurt. His anus burned as though embedded with a live coal. He could feel the flush of his face and throat. The man widened his eyes at him.“Spooky, isn’t it?” he said.

He slowly laid himself full length on Adam’s body. Adam fell back down. His arms threw themselves around the man, but not for long.

“I know,” the man said, biting at Adam’s bottom lip. “Let’s do “If I Had You”. That will be perfect. Now get on your knees. The moon and I are gonna fuck you while you howl.”


End file.
